


three tiers and buttercream

by Saraste



Series: Femslash February 2020 [10]
Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Day 10. competition, F/F, Femslash February 2020, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22654837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: Written for day 10. competition of Femslash February 2020.
Relationships: Delia Busby/Patsy Mount
Series: Femslash February 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619392
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13
Collections: Femslash February





	three tiers and buttercream

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 10. competition of Femslash February 2020.

Delia bit her lip in that adorable way of hers, glanced at Patsy and then back at the object of her worry, which was sitting at the middle of their kitchen table of their little home in the country, a home they’d filled with love and laughter. The object in question — placed a cut glass cake-stand they had gotten as a wedding present, which currently held the most perfect cake in existence, by Patsy’s estimation, and undoubtedly the best Delia had made so far — was an absolute marvel. It was a decadently moist three layered chocolate cake with buttercream frosting and home-made raspberry jam between the layers and piped with the same buttercream on top so it looked like it was covered all over in roses, which Delia had carefully dusted with pale red edible glitter, to make the cake seem like it had come out of a fairy-tale. It looked absolutely mouth-watering and would not disappoint with its appearance or taste.

But still, Delia worried, and her worry didn’t escape Patsy’s keen eyes, not even when she was keeping half an ear to the sounds of playing children from their garden just outside the kitchen door leading into their well-kept back garden.

‘What if ---’ Delia started, but Patsy cut her off before she got any further.

She hugged her from behind, the way she liked best, especially now. ‘Don’t even. The judges will love it, if they have any sense in them.’

‘But –’

‘Dels, they’ll love it. Who doesn’t like chocolate?’

‘People with chronic migraines?’

‘Love, you’ll do fine.’

‘But what if –’

‘No more what-if’s, love. It’s perfect. Perfect outside and in. _Like you_.’ Patsy leaned closer kissed Delia on the cheek.

Delia leaned into her body, settling her own hand over Patsy’s where they crossed over her barely showing bump, one more to join their brood of two wreaking havoc in the garden outside.

‘I guess you’re right and what I really should worry is _them_ getting to it.’

‘They’ve always waited so far,’ Patsy soothed her, ‘and they’re like me, they don’t like to see you upset.’

‘Right.’

And so, the cake was put into the fridge to wait for the next day and the annual cake competition at the summer bazaar, which Delia had won three years in a row. And the children _did_ keep their fingers off of it, by some miracle.


End file.
